


Portrait

by anastiel



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Kissing, M/M, Referenced/Implied Polyamorous Relationship, Sentimental
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-26 17:42:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19010689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anastiel/pseuds/anastiel
Summary: “Come outside with me?”Misha turns to him, free hand easily reaching out to settle comfortably on Jensen’s hip. Jensen shivers at the feel of his warm fingers burning through his shirt, and leans into it.Misha’s eyes dart all over his face, taking him in. He finally meets Jensen’s eyes with a look so heated that Jensen feels the force of it go through him all the way down to his toes. “Okay."





	Portrait

**Author's Note:**

> Everyone please thank Mister Jensen Ackles for the [selfie](https://www.instagram.com/p/ByBrT25gNIy/) that brought this story to life.<3
> 
> Come scream about cockles with me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/anastiels)!

The end of JIB is, as always, magical.

There has always been something special about having one of the last panels be between Jensen and Misha, and now adding Jared to the mix, before bringing all of their friends and found family back onstage for the finale goodbye. It’s the time of the weekend where Jensen is the most relaxed, feels the tremendous outpouring of love from everyone around him. He always basks in it, and basks in how free he feels with Misha onstage with him.

It’s like sharing the stage with his own little slice of sunshine. He never gets out of it without laughing his ass off about a hundred times. The casual smiles and touches they manage to sneak in throughout the panel that mean more than most people know heightens his enjoyment of the entire weekend more than any other con during the year.

He hadn’t been expecting to need to fight off a boner during the last twenty minutes of the final panel, but that’s what happens when your boyfriend straddles you onstage and starts to pull out the asphyxiation card.

Jensen handled it the best he could, fucked around on stage with as many props as he could, avoiding any thoughts that involved Misha straddling him in his stupid leather jacket. He was, however, going to kill Jared later for teasing him.

Now, a quarter of an hour after the con wrapped up, goodbyes said to the fans, everyone is crowded into the green room taking advantage of the remaining alcohol left.

Jensen is lazily sipping on a tumbler full of whiskey, chatting with everyone about the concert tomorrow night, and various events over the weekend. His eyes keep drifting to Misha though, standing across from him. Misha isn’t saying much, sipping on his on celebratory whiskey and watching Jensen right back. Every time Jensen catches his eye, Misha smiles, one of those secret bashful ones just for him. Jensen swears his hearts is going to fucking burst with love for him.

The tension between them from earlier onstage has dulled to a throw simmer of arousal pulsing just beneath his skin. It wouldn’t take much to light him up again. Small talk is fine, celebrating ten years of a phenomenal convention is great, but Jensen has needs. He needs Misha to himself, if only for a few minutes.

Jensen downs the rest of his whiskey with a gulp and slips out of their half circle. Jared shoots him a knowing look accompanied with a very obnoxious smirk and Jensen flips him off because he deserves it after that stint onstage. He slips over to Misha, grabs his elbow and moves in close to brush his lips against the shell of Misha’s ear.

“Come outside with me?”

Misha turns to him, free hand easily reaching out to settle comfortable on Jensen’s hip. Jensen shivers at the feel of his warm fingers burning through his shirt, and leans into it.

Misha’s eyes dart all over his face, taking him in. He finally meets Jensen’s eyes with a look so heated that Jensen feels the force of it go through him all the way down to his toes. “Okay.”

They don’t hold hands like Jensen wants, but Misha stays close enough that their shoulders brush with every step. Jensen’s shoes click on the floor the only sound aside from their breathing, but does nothing to drown out the rapid pounding of his own heart. He feels like a fucking kid.

Jensen leads Misha through the building and out the back to a covered area next to the alley, secluded enough from any potential unwanted prying eyes. The only people who might find them already know. Even so, with the show ending and the future looking promisingly uncertain, Jensen is almost at the point where he doesn’t care anymore.

Once they’re close enough to one of the walls, Jensen grips Misha’s shoulder and turns him so they're facing each other, walking backwards until Misha's back hits the wall. Misha lets him, smiling wide and laughing, settling one of his hands on Jensen’s hip.

“Hey,” Misha says. He pulls Jensen in by his belt loops until their chests are touching, bodies flush against each other. Jensen’s not sure where to put his hands, he wants to touch him everywhere, but decides to rest on the gentle curve of his waist, loving how well his hands have always fit along the planes of Misha’s body.

“Hey,” Jensen says, briefly breathless from getting caught up in all the love reflecting back at him in Misha’s eyes. He lets everything he’s feeling out in a sound that’s half a laugh and a heavy sigh.

“You’re such a fucking asshole.”

“Yeah? Why is that?” Misha asks, eyes twinkling with amusement.

Jensen squints at him and licks his lips. Misha follows the motion with his eyes. Jensen is barely holding himself back from kissing that smug look off his face. “You know what you did.”

“Got you hard onstage?”

“Yeah and --”

“You loved it,” Misha whispers. He reaches up and crooks two fingers underneath Jensen’s makeshift ascot, and drags Jensen into a kiss.

He tastes like whiskey and the sunshine surrounding them, mouth soft and pliable beneath Jensen’s. Misha is as eager as Jensen feels, tightening his grip on Jensen’s hips and pulls him impossibly closer as their kiss deepens. Misha starts to pull back far too soon for Jensen’s liking. He makes sure he licks into Jensen’s mouth, and gets him just as hard as he did in the few seconds of straddling onstage. Jensen wants to grind against him right here, knows he can’t but the yearning ache to let Misha make him come right here out in the open is almost overpowering.

Misha kisses the corner of Jensen’s mouth when he pulls back, kisses his scruffy cheek too, nuzzling into the side of his face. “That what you needed?”

Jensen laughs and shakes his head, a blush creeping up his neck. “No, but it’ll do.”

The late afternoon sun hits Misha’s face, angling over his nose and highlighting his profile. He looks so beautiful in the glow of the sun, blue eyes pure azure.

“We should take a picture together,” Jensen blurts out.

“Yeah?”

“Well, ten years _is_ pretty special,” Jensen says, and hopes Misha knows he means more than just the con, that he means _them, together_.

“It is,” Misha agrees. He squeezes Jensen’s hip and kisses the side of his jaw. Jensen’s heart, despite it being ten years later since the first time, still does a little flip in his chest.

He digs his phone out of his pocket and snaps a picture right as Misha leans back in to kiss him, soft and chaste on the mouth. He gets another a few seconds later of their foreheads pressed together, eyes closed, the sunlight shining like a Catholic saint’s halo over their heads.

“Are those going on Instagram?” Misha asks, mouth quirked up into a smirk.

Jensen chuckles, and gives Misha a little shrug, “I mean...”

He flips between the snapshots. They’re great pictures, he looks so ridiculously in love with Misha it’s obvious even in these frozen moments. He can’t wait to show Danneel, she’s going to love it.

“Take another one, something we can let the internet run with,” Misha says.

Jensen nods in agreement. They step away from the wall, enough so it doesn’t look like they were quite literally making out up against it a few seconds ago. Jensen keeps Misha close, the entire front of their bodies still pressed together, but drops his hand to twine his fingers with Misha’s, out of sight of the camera.

He snaps a few more internet-worthy pictures, and one final one of Misha breaking out into laughter, head dropping to Jensen’s shoulder.

Upon examination the first thing he notices is that Misha has the most dope-y smirk on his face. It’s soft, quirked up on the side. They’re so close together, faces almost touching. It’s perfect.

“This one okay?” Jensen asks, showing Misha his favorite out of the set.

Misha takes Jensen phone and looks at it for a few seconds, dragging his thumb over the surface and then laughs.

“Yeah, I look stupidly in love with you, which I am, but you know what? Fuck it. It’s good.”

Jensen grins and pockets his phone. He steals another kiss from Misha’s mouth, lingers as long as he dares, until their lips are barely brushing.

“Dinner?” Jensen asks.

“Mmmm, I’m starving,” Misha replies. Jensen doesn’t miss the double entendre of his words and all that means for their evening activities later tonight.

“It’s your last night here,” Jensen adds, the realization hitting him like a brick, leaving a melancholy ache in its wake.

Misha nods, smile fading imperceptibly, and squeezes Jensen’s fingers where they’re trapped between his. “Then we better make it a good one.”

Misha fully takes his hand and looks up at Jensen with an arched brow, a silent question. Jensen squeezes his hand in answer, and together they head inside.

Misha’s leaving tomorrow to head north, ending up in London at the end of the week and Jensen will be halfway across the world in Australia. It will be a few weeks, a month even before they get the chance to see each other again. The ache is something Jensen has learned to live with, but for tonight he’ll hold onto Misha for as long as he can.


End file.
